


The Lines Blurring Dreams

by lentranced



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, Reunions, is that a tag idk, please read this i think i did okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lentranced/pseuds/lentranced
Summary: Two years after the war, Priscilla is still coming to terms with letting go of the knight she once loved.





	The Lines Blurring Dreams

Rain pattered against the window. It was peaceful, so peaceful. Priscilla eyed her half empty teacup with bleary, sleepy eyes. Her bangs fell over her eyes and she stretched her legs out on the sofa, finding peace in the solitude.

It had been two years since the war had ended, really ended. Lycia had been freed. Everyone had gone their separate ways.

Priscilla had returned to Count Caerleon’s home, spending the last two years in thoughtful introspection and reading.

Every day, she thought about the knight who would put flowers in her hair while she rested her head in his lap.

It felt like a recurring dream. As the days went by and she grew accustomed to this quiet life once more, she had to work harder and harder to convince herself that Sain had not been a dream.

As she rolled onto her side, she felt the pendant in her pocket. It was a small, coral coloured stone, threaded with a thin black string. The only tether she had, the one thing she took in her palms and caressed every morning, telling herself that it wasn’t a dream.

She missed her brother. Raven was off somewhere. She hoped he thought about her as much as she thought about him

She missed her lover. She hadn’t let Sain call her that.

My darling, he would say.

No, no, no. They couldn’t do this. It would hurt so much. Where was he now? Still a knight, so far away? Would it have really hurt to run away with him?

In her small corner of the library, the wide window to her back, she pulled open the drawer of the desk and pulled out the messy stack of sheets that were inside.

There were so many things she had wanted to say to him, so many words she couldn’t, wouldn’t let slip from her lips, because it would hurt afterwards.

And so, she had put ink to paper and written, whenever she needed to. The words were silly, trivial, she told herself, compliments and praise and sentiment directed to a supposedly imaginary knight on her page.

She never gave a name to the knight, but she knew who he was, and against the pattering rain, she felt for the word against her tongue to make sure she hadn’t misplaced such a precious sound.

Nobody else needed to know.

His precious. His angel.

"Who whispers it to you in the dark of the night?" she asked the library. "And do you say it back?" 

Did he tuck Priscilla away into a small drawer in the corner of his mind? Two years was a lot of time. She looked at the envelopes in her drawer. Did she have an address for the knight? Would she send him these things if she did?

Her heart hadn’t let go and it hurt to think that he would have to fade into nothingness someday. She could only bury her nose in a book for so long. She could not spend her life unwed. Rumours would fly, like crows, like ravens.

The rain was not let up anytime soon. The sky was a dark grey, the shades swirling against the rough brush of the trees that stroked Priscilla’s periphery.

She put the unfinished letters away and slammed the drawer shut.

The corridor was quiet. Typical for a rainy, lazy Sunday afternoon. The garden looked washed down, the colours bleeding against each other, blurring their boundaries. Priscilla’s thick boots felt suffocating on her small feet. She shifted in place, peering out the window at the vast fields of green. 

As soon as she stepped out, she held the umbrella over her head and raindrops clattered against it like beads being dropped from the sky.

Something about the rain made her throat clench up. Maybe if she hid it well enough, she could convince herself that it had just been a dream, even though he wasn’t.

They had been soaked and for once in her life, Priscilla couldn’t help but laugh so hard that it clashed with the crack of thunder. Warmth swelled in her chest. Sain’s hair was dripping wet. He was shivering, grinning as his teeth clattered, one arm around her shoulder.

"Maybe you were right," he had said. "Dancing in an open field isn’t the best idea for a cloudy day."

"It smelled like rain," she had said.

He raked a hand through his wet hair. "Feels like rain too, my lady."

She had laughed again. The memory made her smile now, her footsteps loud splashes through the puddles as she aimlessly wandered through the garden.

Her heart clenched at the mosaic of memories they had put together, a patchwork of emotion as they raced against the clock, not knowing when midnight would strike, just that it would. The certainty of it never showed in Sain’s unwavering smile, but she saw it time and time again in his eyes.

Stargazing, his hand just grazing hers. He had called her the prettiest star. It was silly, but it made her cheeks warm. 

"But unlike a star, you are eternal beauty, Priscilla," he had whispered, looking at her. That was when she had seen it in his eyes. 

"Were you trying to dream, too?" she said against the pattering rain, into the empty, almost barren, in a sense, garden of the estate. 

Maybe they could lie to themselves, call it a beautiful dream. She didn’t expect anyone to chase after her. 

It had been fun while it lasted.

Water rolled down the leaves and Priscilla let herself indulge on the washed out world where she and Sain could stand beside each other. A blurry image of his lips against her knuckles, the glimmer in his eye that never died, not even when they exchanged their final goodbyes.

"I’ll write to you. I should have… I should have promised to."

He was probably chasing skirts again.

"Oh, I could never forget that beautiful red hair."

Her heart thumped in her ears and the sound of rain was gone. She turned towards the voice. For once, it had a direction, unlike the Sain from her memory. How she had yearned to hear that voice, to comment on the battle, to call her sweet names, to hear every word that left his mouth and clasp it in between her palms, a musical note, almost forgotten.

He was as green as the garden flora, hair drenched, just like in the memory she called a dream. 

It had been so perfect, she thought it would be easy to convince herself that it was all just a fantasy. Her heart had begged to differ.

All that time, every day so routine, but a routine that replaced the one she had formed with him. She had never been able to let him go.

"You’re as beautiful as I remember," he said, and that was when she knew it was him, hidden against the shadow of the garden wall.

She crossed through the grass, her boots muddied, dropping the umbrella.

For once in her life, she knew inside of her, where it was that she wanted to go.

"Perhaps even prettier, if I dare say it," he breathed.

"My knight," she said. There was little distance between them. The rain soaked her, but it was a soundless rain now.

"My lady," he said, and then he smiled. "Priscilla."

She looked at him, the panes of his face clear and day, defined. There he was. Real, realer than any of this was.

"I’ve been meaning to write you a letter," she said.

He broke out into a grin. "Shall we write it together?"

How easy it was for him to make her laugh. She smiled back, then her laughter broke out and his hands were on her shoulders.

"What will I do with you?" she said, looking up at him. "Oh, Sain."

"I have a question for you, milady," he said. She watched as he visibly swallowed. "Are… Do you, perhaps, still…"

She already knew what the question would be, at least to some degree. The answer was stuck in her throat. If only she could take the knight into the library, show him all the things she had written. Perhaps they could have tea together and she’d read to him. They could curl up against each other and take turns.

"Do you still love me?" he asked. His voice was so raw, Priscilla felt his fear for her response.

"This isn’t who I am," she said, gesturing to the garden. "I’ve searched every corner of this place for the last two years and do you know what I couldn’t find? Myself."

She wasn’t of Cornwell, but she wasn’t anywhere here, either.

_I don’t have a home_ , she almost said.

Sain bent down so that they were eye to eye. "Do you see yourself… In me?"

He seemed different somehow. She had so much to ask him. Why was he here? How did he get into the garden?

"Do you still love me?" She echoed his question back at her and her voice cracked at the final word.

As though the answer was not already apparent, with Sain soaked and shivering by the edge of her garden, telling her she was beautiful.

"I need to know," she continued. "I need to know it’s real."

"Then I will answer your question in as many ways as you will let me, Priscilla," he said. "I love you, and if you see your home in me, then… Princess, let me be your home, for always."

He held out his hand. She took it and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, the edges of her lover so well defined against the messy reality of her life, that she let him be her roof over the rain, her home, her darling Sain.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee. It boosts my morale and makes me happy: ko-fi.com/mepmep
> 
> (commissions info can be found on my blog, star--gal.tumblr.com)


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